Missing Pieces
by Lyselle
Summary: "My district, my home, my entire world, is on fire." The moments in between that no one noticed or gave much thought to. Everything from District 12's fall to Peeta's rescue. One-shots spanning all three books and in no particular order.
1. This Is War

Missing Pieces

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><p>This Is War<p>

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><p><em>"A warning to the people,<em>

_The good and the evil._

_This.. is...war."_

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><p>"Gale? Is there something wrong?" Beetee asks me in a soft, concerned voice.<p>

I turn around in the chair that I'm sitting in, so that my chin rests on the hard, gray plastic that makes up the back of my seat. "Do you ever wonder..." I start, not sure how to voice my worries. Beetee waits patiently for me to collect my thoughts, and as I do so, I absentmindedly study Beetee's face. Old, wrinkled, worn and washed-out, but a face I trust. One of the _only_ faces I trust.

"Do you ever wonder," I try again, "If any of this is right?" My question comes out sounding a lot more vague than I expected it to, and Beetee gives me a kind look, his way of telling me to elaborate.

"Doesn't this ever feel wrong? Designing the weapons that will eventually be the end of someone? It's..." I struggle for the right words, feeling vulnerable under Beetee's polite but sharp gaze.

"It's hard to think that this," I gesture around at the room, acknowledging all of the blueprints and prototypes lying around, "will take someone's life. It might be a father we kill with this stuff, Beetee. Or a mother, or a _child_, for god's sake. Does that make us any better than the Capitol? We're creating these things knowing that'll they'll be the death of someone."

Beetee considers this silently for a minute, fiddling with a pen in his hand, a habit of his that I've become accustomed to after spending hours in this tiny, underground room with him. "Son, the Capitol created the Hunger Games? True or false?"

Beetee lets the word son slip out of his mouth with such ease that I doubt he even notices it. I guess we _have_ become a dysfunctional sort of father-and-son pair after all of this time spent together in Special Weaponry. Beetee has looked out for me ever since the war began, giving me quiet words of reassurance through everything. Somehow, his words of encouragement and gentleness have even broken down the hard walls I've carefully hidden behind ever since the 74th Hunger Games, and with Beetee I can let all of my worries loose and, in return, gain partially true promises that tomorrow will bring a better day.

"True," I say in response to Beetee's question, wondering what point he's trying to make.

"The Capitol has essentially murdered 1,727 children, not including the victims of the 75th Hunger Games. True or false?" Beetee asks.

"True," I reply steadily enough, but the number of children killed, put plainly in front of me, chills me to my core. _One thousand, seven hundred, twenty seven. _

"The Capitol has murdered these 1,727 children solely for entertainment. True or false?"

"True."

Beetee's looks me right in the eye as he says, "That's where the difference between us and the Capitol lies, Gale. They pointlessly murder children for entertainment, while we try to take as few lives as possible for an actual cause. This is war, Gale. We aren't making bombs just because we feel like it. Whether or not you like it, the fact is that there will be violence in war. There will be sacrifice, and there will be death before someone wins. If we were going to win this peacefully, there wouldn't have been a rebellion. If we thought we could get out of this mess with no death, we would've had a nice long talk with President Snow over tea, sign a peace agreement, and be on our merry way."

There's a few minutes of heavy silence as Beetee's words sink themselves into me, break down some of my doubts in my mind and plant a seed of understanding in their rubble.

I am not designing weapons for others' entertainment. I am designing weapons to help the rebels, to give them something to defend themselves with against the people who _do _spend hours devising ways to kill children, the people who _do _think that it's okay to slaughter 23 innocent children each year.

_This is war, Gale. _

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><p><em>Is this war, Gale?<em>

_Because it just got a lot more personal. _

I watch the red and orange flames lick at their victim, ruthlessly climbing up her frozen body, a single cry for help defeated by the pain. Time seems to stop for a moment as the little blond girl who's not quite fourteen yet reaches out a feeble hand towards her helpless older sister, and that is the memory that I carry with me for my entire life afterwards. Primrose Everdeen's lips forming Katniss Everdeen's name in a final cry for help.

Then the scene starts unraveling too fast for my numb mind to keep up. Bombs, _my bombs, _explode in hundreds of children's hands. Screams of terror make the air heavy as I put my hands over my ears, almost the way Annie Cresta does, in a futile attempt to block the sounds out. I let myself fall to my knees and let people trample me as they all rush towards the decapitated children, trying to save what's left of them.

_I deserve to die. _

I want someone to kill me so I don't ever have to face Katniss again. I want someone to end my life and spare me the pain of trying to live with myself after what just happened. I want someone to shoot an arrow through my heart and end my miserable life.

_I'm a monster. _

But I can't kill myself and I can't let someone else kill me because that would be selfish and cowardly. It would be selfish to die and leave my family mourning. It would be cowardly to die to escape the pain that I deserve.

_First, I'll let myself drown in my sea of guilt. Then, I'll get someone to kill me. Better yet, I'll let Katniss shoot an arrow straight through my heart. Maybe that would make up for murdering her_ _sister_.

And then I repeat Beetee's words to myself, Beetee's _lie _from that day in Special Weaponry.

_That's where the difference between us and the Capitol lies, Gale. They pointlessly murder children for entertainment, while we try to take as few lives as possible for an actual cause. This is war, Gale._

I decide that there's no difference between me and the Capitol. The Capitol and I are both corrupted beings that don't deserve anyone's mercy.

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><p><em>(AN) So what didya think of that chapter? I got all depressed just writing it :( Any thoughts or ideas for future one shots? _


	2. Sweet Dreams

Missing Pieces

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><p>Sweet Dreams<p>

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><p><em>"My bones all resonate,<em>

_A burning lullaby._

_You can't take that from me,_

_Just go ahead and try."_

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><p>My back is on fire. I can still feel every single lash mark that monster Cray inflicted on me as Prim's tiny, capable hands apply a fresh coat of snow onto the cuts and bruises on my back. I try to steady my breathing and hold back a groan as the snow comes into contact with my hot flesh, and I can almost hear the sizzling and feel the heat radiating off of me. I tediously repeat nonsense to myself in an attempt to block out the pain. <em>Fire, fire, my back is on fire, fire, fire, fire...<em>

Prim shoots me an encouraging smile before she disappears out of the front door to collect more snow. It's strange how Prim is the one giving me encouraging looks now and how she's tending to me instead of the other way around. I've seen Prim cry herself senseless too many times for me to bear, and I've carried her home from school because she felt nauseous or queasy too many times to count. Yet, here I am on the Everdeens' kitchen table, biting back screams as a little grim-faced girl who's grown up too fast tends to my wounds.

"This is the last one, okay, Gale?" Prim says to me, returning with another bowlful of snow. She doesn't wait for me to answer and mixes in something with the snow that makes it turn a light shade of green, and she then proceeds to apply the mixture onto the rest of my back. I chew on my lip as the sizzling sensation returns, igniting my back in cool flames again.

"There," Prim says, examining my wounds. Gone is the carefree tone in her voice, edged with childlike innocence. The tone of voice that wasn't missing up until the 74th Hunger Games. Now her voice is hardened and tense, full of masked sadness. It angers me beyond belief.

Prim fetches a roll of thick, white cloth and cuts it into strips to serve as bandages. She gingerly wraps my back up in them, and even though she's careful, the contact aggravates the cuts on my back and I inhale sharply when stabs of pain rack my body. Prim grimaces and gives me a sympathetic look, as if she shares my pain.

Walking over to one of the many cabinets in the kitchen, Prim opens it and rummages around. She pulls out a few things, pushes some things out of the way and puts some items back until she finally finds what she was looking. A vial of blue tinted liquid and a syringe. She carefully fills up the syringe with some of the medicine, and shuffles over to me. She pauses for a minute, running her eyes over my back to determine where she should plunge the needle. The pain is so unbearable now that I'm ready to beg Prim to give me the damned drug already.

I sigh as I feel the needle prick my skin, go into my flesh and come back out again. Prim cleans off the syringe in the sink, and replaces it in the cabinet with the remainder of the drug. She makes to go out the door, but hesitates before exiting. I can already feel the drug working its way into my veins, slowly my body down. Prim quickly walks over to me again, and swiftly stoops down to whisper in my ear.

"I hope she chooses you," she says simply, and I briefly wonder how she knows about all of this but don't dwell on the thought much. I can feel myself starting to fall asleep.

_I hope she chooses me too._

Then the pain is glazed over by the effects of whatever Prim injected into me and I'm lulled to the sweet, beautiful darkness of sleep by those simple five words.

_I hope she chooses you._

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><p><em>(AN) Song quoted: Help Is On The Way by Rise Against_

_Thanks for reading! :D_

_Please review and tell me what you thought of this, and any ideas you may have for future scenarios to add to my own :)_


	3. World On Fire

Missing Pieces

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><p>World On Fire<p>

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><p><em>"Bang, bang go the coffin nails,<em>

_Like a breath exhaled,_

_Then gone forever." _

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><p>"Gale? What's that sound?" Posy comes up to me, worry evident in her big, green eyes, already slightly tainted by the Capitol's mark.<p>

I suddenly become aware of a loud booming sound from outside. A shadow seems to creep over us, taking its time while it submerges our small house in darkness. I laugh softly, a particularly hard thing to do these days.

"It's just a storm, Posy, it'll all blow over s-"

"Gale!" my mother's shrill scream interrupts me. "Gale! Posy!"

My mother's thin frame appears in the doorway, worn out from all of the work she does these days. I can't even stop her, what with my new job in the mines. Today is my one day off, Sunday. The day I used to spend with Katniss before she was reaped again..

Rory and Vick are standing behind her, looking intensely frightened, which is strange since they both pride themselves on being tough.

My mother opens her mouth to say something, and another ear-splitting boom sounds from right outside our door. I automatically scoop up Posy in my arms, who's started crying. I don't quite register what's happening until I see a ball of fire right on the side of our house, and a series of screams resounds from outside.

"Everyone get out! Right now!" I yell, my senses on high alert. I exert a tighter grip on the sobbing little girl in my arms, and my mother scrambles out of the house, holding one boy's arm in each hand. I run out with Posy and hug her once more, not knowing if I'll ever see her again.

"Go with mom, Posy," I say gently, nudging her towards my mother's outstretched arms.

"But, Gale-"

"Please, Posy," I say, and something in my expression must tell her that we're all in danger because she stops mid-sentence and just nods gravely before allowing my mother to sweep her up in her arms.

"The Meadow," I tell my mother, and she nods. "I need to get the Everdeens."

There's complete chaos in the district as bombs drop down from Capitol hovercrafts. People are running all around the area, searching for a safe haven. If only I could save them all, but my own family and the Everdeens are my top priority right now. I promise myself I'll come back and help as many others as I can, right after Prim and Mrs. Everdeen are safe.

I sprint towards the Victors' Village, my sweaty shirt and hair sticking close to my skin. I dodge countless citizens, both from the Town and the Seam, and my heart sinks a little deeper inside my chest each time I recognize someone. I push myself on, and the Victors' Village finally comes into view.

I recognize Katniss's house and barge into it, finding Mrs. Everdeen and Prim both curled up in a corner of the house, both of them looking pale and frightened.

"Prim!" I yell, and there's a loud crash from outside. I feel a wave of heat as the empty house next to Katniss's goes up in flames.

Prim gets up shakily, grabbing her mother's arm and supporting her. Mrs. Everdeen swats Prim's hand away, rising on her own.

"Hurry up!" I shout over the roar of flames and the terrified screams from the citizens outside. "There's not much time! Go through the back door!"

Prim and her mother both give a terse, obedient nod and dart out of the house through the back door. I rush out behind them, pushing them both along. "The Meadow!" I have to yell at the top of my lungs. The din is deafening.

They both look confused for a moment. "Gale, you have to come with us-" Prim starts, her voice higher than usual.

"Prim, please. Take your mother to the Meadow. I'm going to try and help as many people as I can," I say frantically, looking around.

Prim looks like she wants to argue, but she realizes there's no point and silently sets off towards the Meadow, dragging her mother behind her. I can only hope that they make it there alive and stay alive, because I don't know what I'd do if I lost them and how I'd live with myself and Katniss.

I dash towards the Seam, which is already half-devoured in flames by now. As I get closer and closer and the heat gets almost unbearable, I feel as if I'm missing something and my footsteps falter for a moment as I realize what I forgot.

_The Mellarks._

Maybe I don't particularly like Peeta, and maybe I shouldn't be particularly worried about his family either, since my acquaintance with them doesn't go any farther than sneaking the baker squirrels for bread every so often. But Peeta did help keep Katniss alive in the arena with their whole fanciful star-crossed lovers angle, and his father was a good man, helping to keep the Everdeens alive by sending them loaves of bread and pastries every now and then.

_Besides, _I think, _Katniss would've went back for them, with little to no hesitation. _

My heart racing, I snap my head around in the direction of the crumbling Victors' Village and start towards it, but a sleek, silver hovercraft beats me to it. A series of at least five firebombs are carelessly dropped onto the Mellarks' house, as if their lives mean nothing. As if this is completely normal, completely justifiable. The house creates an inferno, and a convenient gust of wind blows the fire towards the houses to the right of the Mellarks', which in turn makes sparks catch onto other houses.

I notice, however, that Katniss's house remains untouched. On purpose, I'm sure. Just to give her an extra chill when she finds out, to make their message a bit more clear to her.

The five bombs dropped onto the Mellarks' house pretty much ensures that they won't be living through that ordeal, and feeling guilt welling in the pit of my stomach, I tear my eyes away from the Victors' village and force myself to turn back around. The Mellarks are beyond my help now.

I make it to the center of the rapidly fading Seam and I start to yell as loud as I can. I'm completely out of breath and my throat feels like it's bleeding after I've repeated my message at least a dozen times. "Everyone, over here! I have a plan! I can get you safe!"

A few wild-eyed and screaming people come towards me, and others soon follow, recognizing me as my father's son, recognizing me as someone who can help them. In a matter of seconds, I've put the burden of protecting these people on me. They expect help, and I only hope I can give it to them.

I've stowed away my family and the Everdeens in the Meadow, where they'll be safe for at least another ten minutes, but I have no idea where we're going to go after that or what we're going to do next. I rack my brain for any ideas, any place that can, at least temporarily, keep everyone I've collected safe.

Only one place comes to mind.

Deep in the woods, a long walk, a hard walk, but it's the most remote place I can think of, and I'll take my chances with almost anything right now, I'm so desperate. I'll take everyone to the lake that Katniss showed me once, her special place that she had previously only shared with her father. We'll be able to live off of the water from the lake for at least a few weeks, I hope, if the water hasn't been contaminated by all of the ash blowing around.

"We're going into the woods," I announce. More bombs drop in the distance. Some people look at each other wearily, probably wondering what the hell is wrong with me. The woods are a forbidden place, a dangerous place to everyone but Katniss and me.

"It's the only safe place there is in District 12 right now, so we'll just have to take our chances. Prepare yourself for a long walk. I know a place pretty deep in the woods where we'll have water and supplies for at least a few days. If you want to come with me, you're welcome, or else you'll just have to take your chances out here," I gesture around at our burning district.

A look passes through the group and I know that they've made their minds.

"Follow me!" I shout, weaving through the small crowd, and leading them towards the Meadow and the edge of the district. Having no other choice, everyone somewhat reluctantly walks after me, mothers scooping up small children and older kids trying to put on a brave face.

We dodge all of the debris as best as we can, watching in horror as District 12, our home, goes up in flames. The usually blueish gray sky is completely ashen, black clouds looming over all of us. Reality barely feels real as I guide everyone towards the Meadow, our savior. I think I'm floating through everything, as if I'm there but not really there. An illusion.

"Prim!" I shout once we reach the Meadow. "Rory, Vick, someone!"

My family, Prim, and Mrs. Everdeen emerge from the opposite side of the Meadow. The grass in the area over there is overgrown enough that if you were to lay down in it, you'd be concealed.

"Gale!" Posy cries, pointing at me. I want to smile but I can't bring myself to do it.

"We're going into the woods," I say as soon as everyone has joined our little group of survivors. There's no reply, and I lead everyone to the fence, where I had gone so many times with Katniss.

"In!" I command, my voice catching slightly. I see the Capitol hovercrafts advancing towards us, painstakingly slow. I don't know if they can see us or not, but I don't want to find out.

Most of the people stay where they are, not knowing what to do. Rory, however, locates the hole in the fence quickly and wriggles in the dirt, squirming this way and that until he's on the other side.

"Everyone has to pass under the fence," I say loudly, and many people look unsure about this plan, but I add, "Or you could try to climb over it."

Almost in unison, the people in doubt look up to see the barb wire topping the fence, and a grim expression crosses their faces, knowing they'll have to squeeze through the tiny gap. I know it'll be difficult for some of the adults, but I don't have time to be encouraging and patient with all of them.

I tap my foot as everyone passes under the fence one by one. Mothers send in the children first, then crawl in themselves. I watch as my family and the Everdeens' turn comes, and Rory helps them hoist themselves under the fence. I myself stay on the other side. I can still evacuate more people if I'm fast enough.

"Rory, remember when I brought you in here once?" I ask him hurriedly.

Rory nods once.

"Remember the clearing?" Rory won't know the way to the lake, but I'm sure he can lead them to Katniss and me's meeting place.

Another nod.

"Take everyone there. Hide yourselves as best as you can," I tell him. "I'm going back."

"Gale, you can't-" Rory starts.

"You can't change my mind, Rory," I say, cutting him off.

"I know," he sighs, "Be careful."

Posy struggles out of my mother's grip and gets as close to the fence as she dares.

"Are you coming with us, Gale?" she asks sweetly, innocently. She has no idea what's going on all around her.

"I'll come back, Posy, I promise," I tell her, turning around to leave. _If I don't come for anything else, I'll come back for Posy._ I pray that the Capitol doesn't bomb the woods, anywhere but the woods.

Then I'm off.

I sprint across the Meadow, glancing back only once to see everyone's retreating backs on the other side of the fence. I run faster than I've run in my whole life, my legs aching and my heart pounding so hard it _aches._ I barely notice, though, because seeing the fiery district spurs me on and reminds me of the urgency of the situation. I can't slow down.

Somewhere along the way, I've decided to check on the mayor's house first, and I make a beeline for the large, fancy home, it's delicate wooden frame and elegant shutters now fueling the inferno that engulfs the district. The house isn't yet completely eaten up by the flames, and I see Madge in the doorway of the house, standing there frozen.

"Madge!" I scream. What the hell is she thinking? She'll get burned alive if she doesn't move.

Madge whips her head around at the sound of her name. She's red in the face from the heat.

"Gale," she says, her voice watery. I grab her arm and drag her away from the home, an easier feat than I expected since she doesn't struggle at all, she just lets me take her away.

"Run," I tell her wildly, "Go for the woods."

She shakes her head no.

"Damn it, Madge, go!" I say forcefully, shaking her. She shakes her head, tears running down her face.

"Madge," I tighten my grip on her, "I don't want to see you die, Madge, go!" I push her in the vague direction of the fence.

"I can't," she says hoarsely, turning back, "My parents are trapped in there." At that moment, a high-pitched scream resounds from the falling house.

"I'll get them out," I say frantically, "Just go. Save yourself. Madge, please." I'm begging her now. Madge and I may not be the best of friends, but she'd offered me comfort and advice on more than one occasion while Katniss was gone, and I didn't want to see her burn to the ground, just like everything else.

"I have nothing to live for, now, Gale. My parents are dying, my home is falling apart," she says, her whole body quivering.

"Don't say that," I snap at her, suddenly angry. A burst of heat washes over us as another part of her house catches on fire. "There's always something to live for. Come _on_," I pull her away from the house, but she puts up a fight.

"No, Gale," she says maniacally, "Let me burn. I'd rather die with my parents than have nothing. You have your family, I've just lost mine. Please, Gale." I have her in a death grip now.

"Madge, _just fucking_ _leave!_" I scream in her face, pushing her roughly away from her house. She swiftly turns back around, her face tear-stained, and before I realize what's happening, she's kissing me softly, once, and she runs into her burning doorway.

I stare at her helplessly, my mouth forming her name in a final cry, my hand reaching towards her, but it's too late. Madge Undersee has entered the house, she has plunged to her own fiery death.

"God damn it, Madge!" I scream at the house, pulling at my hair. After a moment of pure shock, I make myself run into the Town. Madge's gone. There's nothing I can do now. She's probably turned to ashes, along with the rest of her family. _I failed. _

With my already heavy heart impossibly heavier and with my legs aching and my lungs burning, I push myself further, determined to lead others to safety, to give others a chance. There's flashes of blonde as merchants and their families run haphazardly through the remains of the districts, dodging flying debris and shrapnel.

"Over here!" I scream as loud as I can, and my throat _burns_, but I ignore it and keep yelling and shouting. I watch in horror as more buildings burn down. The apothecary, the bakery, the grocer's, all reduced to ash and charred remains.

Some people hear me, and having no other choice, run as fast as they can towards me. I soon have a group of about ten fair-haired children and women. The men are trying to pull others out of collapsed buildings and burning homes. I risk staying there for about one more minute, screaming out a final call to anyone who wants to come along. A few more people scramble over to us, and the group grows to about fifteen people.

"Hurry!" I yell, leading everyone away from the Town and towards the edge of the district.

"Where are we going?" one of the women asks, and a murmur runs through the group.

"We're going into the woods," I reply, not turning around. I quicken my pace, feeding off of pure adrenaline now that my body is so worn out.

"Are you insane? How are we going to survive?" someone else asks.

"Unless you want to go back there," I say, gesturing vaguely behind me at the mess we've left behind, "You'll follow me." That shuts everyone up, and there are no complaints the whole way to the fence, not even from the children, who have been shocked into silence.

We arrive at the fence and I point at the gap. "Crawl through there, everyone, I'm right behind you all."

I earn a few pointed looks from people who still think I'm crazy for leading them here, but no complaints are voiced and everyone obediently crawls through the gap.

Before wriggling into the woods myself like I have so many time before, I take one last look at District 12 in all it's glory as it's burned to the ground.

My district, my home, my entire _world, _is on fire.

After imprinting the image of the ashen, fiery district into my mind, I drop onto my knees and squirm through the gap in the fence, urging everyone to hurry up as I lead them towards mine and Katniss's clearing, where hopefully everyone else is waiting. I don't look back once as we trek through the woods, for fear that if I see District 12 and Madge and the mayor and the baker burning one more time, I'll start screaming and I'll never stop.

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><p><em>(AN)_

_Song quoted: Make It Stop by Rise Against_

_I know it's been a while since I last updated, so sorry 'bout that. _

_Thoughts, comments, criticism? _


	4. Bitter Escape

Missing Pieces

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><p>Bitter Escape<p>

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><p><em>"With the cataclysm raining down,<em>

_Insides crying 'Save me now,"_

_You were there impossibly alone." _

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><p>The faint crackle of static resounding from my comunicuff startles me, but I quickly regain myself and hold the watch hybrid up to my ear.<p>

"Soldier Hawthorne, do you read me?" Boggs asks, his voice a stoic calm.

"Soldier Hawthorne reading, over," I whisper into the tiny microphone.

"We've secured all of the prisoners' current coordinates, over," Boggs says. I can hear the faint clattering of keys as he types something.

"What are my next directions? Over."

"I'm sending a map of your assigned prisoner, prisoner 153's location. Go find him. Over."

There's a soft _beep_ as my comunicuff receives the map. I press the choice that reads _view _on the screen, and the map replaces the options menu. I study the location for a few heartbeats, the glow of my comunicuff contrasting with the dim lighting of the prison. By my current surroundings (black supply closet, hallway in front and to the right of me, no other doors), I judge that prisoner 153 is not too far away from me.

"Who is prisoner 153? Over," I say into the comunicuff, leaning in closer to hear the answer.

"I'm not allowed to disclose that information just yet. Over," he replies.

"What difference does it make? Over."

"It doesn't. Which is why it's unnecessary. Over."

"I'll have to be able to recognize them, over." Knowing fully well that I'm just wasting precious time, I prepare myself to leave for prisoner 153's location at Boggs's next reply.

"Peeta Mellark. Over," Boggs says after a slight pause. _So they're sending me after Mellark._

"I'm ready to leave. Over," I say, not missing a beat.

"We just did a scan of the area. Traps and explosives every inch of the way during the last stretch to his cell. Be careful, Soldier Hawthorne. Over," Boggs says, his voice becoming slightly fuzzy. The previously faint crackle of static slowly crescendos.

"Send me the scan results. I'll try my best to avoid them. Over," I say, trying not to panic. _I have about two minutes before the signal is lost. _

Boggs had told our little group of volunteers before we descended into this metal box that the Capitol may soon realize that the rebels have contact with people inside of the prison. We've been warned that all connections may be severed with Boggs and the other advisors in the hovercraft. In case of this, we're told not to panic and to escape the prison as fast as we can, and the hovercraft will come to fetch us.

But now that the situation is slowly coming to life, it's hard to see how I'll be able to follow Boggs's instructions.

There are no doors in sight down the two hallways that I'm standing in the cross section of. The closet behind me is just that; a closet, filled with black blankets and powdered meals. No windows, no hatches in the ceiling. Our rescue group had managed to bust into the place with one of Beetee's creations, a eerily silent bomb that can detonate through metal. Unfortunately, the materials required to make it are costly and rare in District 13, so we only have one more of the bomb on hand, which is back in the guarded section of Special Weaponry.

I'm only armed with a medium-sized gun and a couple of hand grenades, even when the Special Weaponry room is stocked with a range of other, more efficient items. It just shows how much faith the head of District 13 has in this mission.

Bogg's voice brings me out of my silent analyzation.

"I've sent the scan results to your comunicuff. Gale, we've lost contact with the other six in the group, you're the only one we have a connec-" I listen for a few more moments as I can vaguely hear Boggs's voice telling me to do something, but then the static becomes too loud for me to distinguish any words.

My two minutes are up.

Thankfully, my comunicuff receives Boggs's scan results before the connection is cut, and I open them up side-by-side with the map to Peeta's containment cell. My heart starts racing as I realize that everyone will be expecting me to escape to the hovercraft, and I contemplate the idea for a moment, but I already know what I'm going to do, and I'm pretty sure that the rest of my group will do the same and go ahead and save their assigned prisoners anyway. Besides, I've never been one to listen to directions, have I?

I expect alarms to go off and for red lights to start flashing, but the hallway is quiet save for the soft metallic sound my feet make as they hit the floor. I make it to the end of the hallway and turn right sharply, closer and closer to my destination. The prison is still strangely quiet, and I suddenly become hyper aware of my echoing foot steps. I pause in the middle of the hallway, certain that Peacekeepers or vicious attackers are coming my way any second now, but I hear and see nothing.

I move on.

I sprint through a few more straight, closed-up hallways, keeping tabs on the two maps on my comunicuff. After a few minutes, I arrive at a hallway, five hundred meters in length, making it slightly longer than the others. The scan scan results for it are covered in angry red marks where I might trigger a weapon or trap. There's absolutely no way around the hall, and I glance from the hallway to the scan results, trying to find a reasonably safe way through it. There is no guaranteed safe passage, though, because the traps and bombs are randomly distributed. But if I stick to the left of the hall, I might get across with minimal injuries. After a moment of indecision, I plunge into the darkly lit passage that might be the death of me.

For the first hundred meters, I carefully pick my way through all of the danger zones, successfully avoiding them, even though the hallway is so dim that I can't see past more than five meters before everything becomes shrouded in shadows. As I walk further and further into the hallway, I can only see four meters in front of me. Then three, then two, and then even my hand in front of my face is just another shadow.

President Snow is wicked smart, if he designed this place.

Instead of sending physical reinforcements after the intruders in his prison, he's slowly faded the already dim lights into darkness, taking away our sight. No one had thought to give us night vision goggles, even though we have an abundance of them in District 13. For the first time since this whole rescue mission has been organized, reality hits me hard and I have to steady my breathing to keep myself calm. We're here on a spur-of-the-moment mission, barely prepared with poor weapons. If Peacekeepers came right now in this darkness, armed with night vision goggles and Capitol-designed weapons, how can I keep them from taking me away? What will they do to Peeta, Annie, Johanna, and the others who're being tortured for information?

I freeze in place, becoming even more sensitive to the stillness. Shouldn't there be screams and wails piercing this damned silence? I thought all of the prisoners were being tortured for information, but the hush in the prison suggests otherwise. Maybe this is just a wild goose chase that we've been lured into by yet another one of President Snow's creatively sadistic plans.

Before I completely lose my mind, I push myself forward and take one, two steps, but it's enough to set off the trap.

I can't see anything, but the passage way is so silent that I can hear the faint buzz of something hurtling towards me. I hit the ground with lightning speed, the slamming sound resounding through the hall.

I lift myself off of the ground, pressing a button on my communicuff so that the screen glows slightly. I swing it in an arc around me, trying to see the object that had almost buried itself in me. On the right wall, embedded in the metal, is a single dart, its tip probably poisoned to finish me off quickly. Doing a brief assessment, by the position of the dart in the wall, I'm able to tell that it was obviously aimed straight at my heart. I shudder briefly, studying my map intently before making my next move.

The odds are in my favor for the rest of my journey, and I arrive at the spot where Peeta's cell supposedly is. I'm shaken, but unscathed.

Not wanting to waste my comunnicuff's energy by using it as a flashlight, I feel around the cool metal wall in the darkness for a button or a handle or _something _that'll lead me to the cell's entrance. I find nothing, and telling myself that I probably just missed the door the first time, my fingers probe the wall again. Still nothing. I double-check the map, and I know I'm standing in the exact place that I'm supposed to be in. _Maybe Boggs's calculations were a little off. _

Cautiously shifting a few feet to the left, I feel the walls for any openings. When I find none, I shuffle to the right, my fingers grazing the black metal of the walls. Still nothing. Knowing that the entrance can't be on the other side, since it's all rigged with traps, I truly start to panic. I'm almost sure that this is all just a trap, that some Capitol-trained soldiers are probably coming to drag me off right now, when I notice a groove in the floor. Although I know I shouldn't, I allow my hopes to get high as I gingerly press on the groove with my foot. Disappointment rises in me as yet again nothing happens.

Feeling hopeless and agitated and angry, I grit my teeth and stomp on the damned floor, as if I could harm it. If nothing happens soon, I'll be driven insane with the constant quietness and suffocating darkness.

As one last futile attempt, I get down on my knees in the same spot where the groove is, feeling around on the floor for something, _anything_ that can save me from this. The floor suddenly jerks, and I stand up with a start, certain that this is the part where the Capitol takes me hostage. Instead of soldiers rushing in to arrest me, though, the floor starts moving downwards. I feel nauseous, remembering the tiny elevator in the coal mines back in District 12. My breathing gets shallow as I start to hyperventilate, feeling as if the darkness is somehow sucking the air out of me. Desperately, I claw and bang on the walls. For all I know, this elevator could go down forever and forever, and somewhere along the way I'd die from choking on nothing.

The elevator jerks to a stop, and there's no signs that I'll be let out of it. I bang on the walls again blindly, not wanting to be stuck in this damned thing. Just as I'm about to accept my fate, the wall to my right slides opens lazily. I rush out of the opening, not even bothering to look where I'm stepping.

My eyes suddenly _burn_ and I snap them shut to block out the sensation. Slowly, I open them again, and find myself in a bright room, the lights a searing white. Spots dance across my eyes and it's a few minutes before my eyes adjust to my surroundings.

I take in the new area I've landed in. Four metal walls on either side of me, the cell bare except for chains attached to the wall, and attached to the chains, Peeta Mellark. His face is gaunt and hollow, his body merely skin stretched over bone, but it's Peeta Mellark. The one person who can help make Katniss whole again.

I gape at him in shock for a few moments, before I come to my senses and rush to his side, trying to find a way to unchain him. His blue eyes are cold and calculating, a look I've never seen on him before, and I jerk back suddenly as I remember that he was hijacked. Brainwashed.

"It's okay," he says, his voice completely hoarse from disuse. He clears his dry throat, the sound making me wince. He tries to speak again. "It's okay, I remember you. I won't hurt you. I can't, actually," he says, and I watch as he tries to lift an arm. I can see his arm muscles tightening and his veins jutting out, but Peeta can only shakily elevate his arm a centimeter off of the ground before he has to drop it.

I go ahead and unchain him, which is surprisingly not a too difficult task. Peeta, being as weak and malnourished as he is, can't possibly break through the chains. After a few thrusts from the back of my gun and a lot of pulling, though, I've broken the links on his arm and wall. He rubs his wrists gingerly, wincing as he does so. The whole area is bruised, and I can't even imagine how much it must ache.

"So, do you actually remember me?" I ask carefully. I'm already sure that Peeta isn't dangerous, but I want to see just how much they messed with this head.

"Of course. You're Gale. Gale H-hawthorne. The guy who used to hunt with her," he says confidently.

"Who's 'her'?" I prod, knowing exactly who he's referring to.

Peeta's eyes darken. "You know who. The mutt. The one who killed my family."

I'm taken aback by his answer, and my thoughts must show on my face. "Don't tell me you don't know what she's done," he practically snarls, his eyes full of hate.

_I really don't think this will benefit Katniss in any way. _

I change the topic before he gets too carried away. "I'm helping you get out of here."

Doubt crosses Peeta's features. "How do I know you're not lying? What if you've teamed up with the people who've tortured me? Maybe you're working with the mutt herself."

His answer surprises me but I mask my emotions. "I'm not working with the.. mutt. I'm here to help you. I unchained you, didn't I? Listen, we can't waste any more time if you want to make it out of here alive."

Peeta snorts. "I would go with you if I thought we could escape. But how're you going to get me out? Look around. See any exits? The elevator you used to get down here is closed up now."

My eyes frantically search the tiny space, and I realize he's right. No doors, no windows, no nothing. Now that I've found Peeta, there's no way to get him out. I whirl around towards the elevator's closed opening, kicking and banging on the metal. I search for any grooves or buttons that might open it up, but there's absolutely nothing. I consider launching a grenade at the door, but figure that'll do more harm than good.

For the hundredth time, I check my communicuff for a signal, and the harsh words _Connection Lost _crush any hopes I have of contacting Boggs and the others. A signal was nearly possible to get above ground, let alone in this metallic underground cage.

I make a few more futile attempts at finding an exit, some sort of secret door or hidden window. Peeta sits in a heap on the floor, looking vaguely amused. "There's no way out of here. No point in trying. Guess we'll be torture buddies now, huh?" Peeta says.

I scowl. "That's not helping," I tell him, but I know that he's right. I sit down on the floor on the opposite side of the room, and cradle my head in my hands. There's a few minutes of silence as I contemplate what to do next. Peeta watches me carefully the whole time.

"Does anyone ever come in here?" I ask him finally.

"Yeah," Peeta replies. I wait for him to go on. "There's these Avoxes that bring me a bit of food and water, and the guards who take me to the torture chambers."

A chill runs down my spine. "When do the guards come to get you?"

"I don't know. Does it look like I have a way of keeping track of time?" Peeta answers. I look at him strangely. From the few times I've talked to him, I don't remember this snappy, blunt person.

Peeta's torturers could be on their way right now, or they could be coming hours from now.

"We have to get out of here," I say out loud.

"Forget about escape," Peeta says, his expression hardening. "Every time I tried to escape, it didn't end well."

"But I think I might have back up waiting for me outside, if I could only get a damned signal and tell them I'm not dead," I say.

"It's impossible to get a signal here," Peeta says, oh-so-helpfully.

"I kind of figured that out," I snap.

"Do you have any weapons?" Peeta asks me.

"Yeah."

"What are they?"

"A gun and three hand grenades."

"Why don't you use the grenades to bust out?" Peeta questions.

"You want us to explode our way out of here? And get killed in the process? What's the point of that?" I ask.

"Do you want to find out what happens if you _don't _try it?" he asks me, dead serious. "Trust me, you'll find yourself wishing you killed yourself with the grenades when you see how they torture you for information." That shuts me up.

Would I rather live and be tortured by the Capitol, or die trying to escape from them?

Both options aren't very appealing.

"I'll take my chances with the grenades," I tell him, and Peeta nods.

"Do you have anything we can shield ourselves with?" I ask, although I know it's pointless.

"No."

I go on to kick and bang on all of the walls, to see which one is the weakest.

"What will we do after we get out of here? This place is huge, we'll never find our way out by luck," Peeta says.

"I have a map." He nods.

To my surprise, as I come to the third wall, I find that it makes a more hollow sound when tapped on. I test the last wall first and then come back to the third wall, to make sure I'm right.

"This wall faces the outside. If I can manage to break through it, we'll be free," I say, hopes rising.

They quickly fall flat, though, as I realize the chances of that. There's a reason no guards or soldiers have been sent after me yet, because my every move is being monitored. I suddenly wish I hadn't voiced out my newly formed plan. There's probably microphones and cameras all over the cell. Now that I just gave away all details of my escape to the people monitoring Peeta's cage, there'll be soldiers waiting on the other side to shoot us down as soon as we emerge from this place.

_Nice going, Gale._

More flaws quickly unravel in my mind. How will Peeta escape, since he can barely move, let alone run? What if Boggs already took the survivors and left?

"You have to move to the other side of the room," I say to Peeta. He gives me a terse nod and tries to stand, but his legs fail him. I quickly make it to his side and hook an arm around his back, leading him to the opposite end of the room.

Peeta curls up into a ball and watches me as I unclip the grenades from my belt. I don't allow myself to think before pulling the safety pin from the first grenade and launching it towards the wall. I quickly launch the second grenade in the same direction, and the third one follows shortly. I run towards where Peeta is, ready to pull him up and drag him out behind me.

But the grenade hasn't even been able to implode through the wall.

I vaguely hear rhythmical footsteps pounding somewhere way off to the right above us, but I know we barely have any time left.

It feels as if my blood is pure adrenaline as I sprint towards the damaged wall and punch it with all I have. I throw my whole weight against it several times and kick at it every so often, and it must look I'm doing some sort of frenzied dance. A hole finally appears in the dented metal and I focus on it, punching and punching until my knuckles are sore and bleeding. Right now, the adrenaline will save me from the pain. I'll face the consequences later.

Not so carefully, I grab Peeta by the collar and pull him up, and when he almost falls I literally drag him behind me. My heart beating crazily, I pull out my gun and climb out through the hole in the wall, with Peeta following close behind. We arrive outside and I greedily breath in the fresh air, my gun in front of me and ready to shoot at anyone who comes in our way.

The scene that awaits me, though, is certainly not what I expected.

Our hovercraft's still here, thankfully, and I see that all of the other members of the rescue group are still alive and fighting. Capitol soldiers are everywhere, shooting everywhere and fighting everyone. Once they see me and Peeta come out of the prison, almost all of them turn on us, guns trained at our hearts.

The fighting suddenly stops, and with so many people congesting the area, it surprises me how quiet the air gets. All eyes are on me and Peeta. The rescue group looks helpless as it stares at us. The soldiers' expressions are all a generic calm.

A crazy idea suddenly hits me and I hold up my gun to Peeta's head, my index finger on the trigger.

"I won't kill you," I breath, so only Peeta can hear me. I make sure my lips don't move. "Play along."

No one wants Peeta to die, because killing the Girl on Fire's husband will only fuel the rebellion. I can see in the soldiers' body language that they definitely did not expect this to happen. All of them put their guns down and eye me warily, not knowing if I'm insane enough to actually end Peeta's life.

The gun still pressed against Peeta's skull, I slowly walk towards the hovercraft, hoping I don't get killed along the way. There's dead silence as I go closer and closer, except for the dragging of Peeta's feet on the ground. I slowly climb the steps, allowing the rest of my group to go before me so they aren't left behind. We're all almost in the hovercraft when the gun slips from my sweaty grasp and falls to the ground will a dull _thunk._

Someone takes the opportunity and launches a bomb at the hovercraft, effectively blowing a layer of metal off of the exterior. Scraps and chunks of metal fly everywhere, and some of them embed themselves into my back and shoulders, causing me to cry out in pain. I roughly push Peeta into the hovercraft, clambering in after him.

The Capitol soldiers continue to fire at the hovercraft to try and delay our escape. Boggs, however, has the hovercraft up and running in seconds and we lift into the sky, finally getting away from this damned place. More bombs are launched towards us, and one hits the hovercraft, making us all tip sideways and lurch in our seats, but the hovercraft shudders and moves on. Peeta has already been taken to the medics on board, to see just how bad his hijacking is.

Someone looks my way and notices the shrapnel stuck in my skin. I star to tell them that I'm fine, really, but a wave of pain and nausea and fatigue hits me, making me crumple to the ground. I hear footsteps running towards me and I hold my head in my hands, trying to block out everything.

And then there's nothing.

_This'll all be worth it if I can just see Katniss look a little more alive at the sight of Peeta. _

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><p><em>(AN) Song quoted: Iridescent by Linkin Park_

_Any comments? That was probably the longest thing I've ever typed up xD_

_Thanks to anyone who's favorited, subscribed, reviewed, or read this story!_


	5. The Other Side

Missing Pieces

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><p>The Other Side<p>

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><p><em>"She held onto to my heart,<em>

_But now my only star is falling._

_And it's burning to the ground." _

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><p>Gale bursts through the door, his hair askew and clothes rumpled and sooty. He doesn't bother pulling off his worn-out boots and instead trudges to the kitchen, dumping the contents of his game bag onto the kitchen table. His nose catches the aroma of fresh bread and his eyes find their way to the counter to see a warm loaf sitting there. Scowling at the baker's act of <em>charity<em>, he starts to make his way towards where his family and the Everdeens are gathered around the television, but then stops. His legs are aching too much to take another step. His new job in the mines and supporting two families on his own has given him plenty to worry about and not enough time to rest. Gale slouches in the doorway, appreciating how everyone shifts to give him a fairly good view of the screen from where he's situated.

Gray eyes weary and barely open, he tries to pay attention as he watches the interaction between Katniss and the baker's son. They talk to each other in soft tones and nibble on their dwindling food supply, both of them battered and bruised. He can feel his eyelids getting heavier and heavier as he listens to the dull hum of their slightly awkward conversation. He sinks lower towards the floor and is in a half-awake, half-asleep state when he hears a collective gasp from the kids and a hushed noise that could've been an "Ew," or an, "Oh."

"What happened?" Gale asks loudly, suddenly alert. He forces himself up to his feet and drags himself over to the television. "What's wrong?" He fears the worst. What if the Careers found them? What if some wild mutt's after them?

"Gale, I don't think," Hazelle starts, looking sympathetically at her son.

He's already seen the screen, though.

"What the f-" he starts, but stops when he remembers all of the children surrounding him. They all look at him with wide eyes, curious as to what he'll do next. Mrs. Everdeen just glances at Gale and shakes her head slightly.

Katniss, _his Catnip, _is kissing the baker's son. Ten, twenty, thirty seconds later they're still at it and it's only when they reach forty do they pull away. Gale watches, knowing he shouldn't but not being able to tear his eyes away. Is that really Katniss Everdeen? The same girl who told him just before she volunteered that she never wanted to have children, not ever?

All of his drowsiness suddenly gone, Gale rushes outside.

"Gale!" Hazelle calls. "Gale, come back!"

Ignoring her, he runs out of the front door, his tired legs aching with the extra effort but he doesn't stop. He must look like a mess, all dirty and dusty and wild-eyed, but Gale barely thinks as his feet take him to the only safe place he has ever known.

He automatically gets down onto his stomach and wriggles through the gap in the fence, standing up quickly once he's on the other side. Almost falling over his own feet several times, he starts to run blindly. He runs and runs until he's sure he's burned through all of the scarce fat he has left on his body and probably all of his muscle too. Once he's done, his legs are on fire and aching and he's entered a deep, dark part of the woods that doesn't seem even remotely familiar.

Gale doesn't care. He doesn't care, he doesn't care, he doesn't care.

Collapsing into a heap at the base of a wide tree, he pulls his legs up to his chest, wincing at the movement. He leans his head back against the tree and lets out a long, shaky breath, his poor heart pounding in his ears. Once his pulse has moved away from his brain and back into his chest, he wants to scream. He wants to yell and shout and punch the trees but he doesn't. There are still six mouths to feed in the morning, and there's still going to be a place waiting for him in the coal mines.

He's staying alive only for them. His family and the Capitol.

_ Why him? _

Gale can finally form coherent thoughts after a few minutes of controlled breathing.

_Why him?_

_Does she even know him? Does he even know her? How the hell could a girl from the Seam and the baker's son possibly know each other?_

He's just so tired. So, so tired of everything.

He thought that he could do this on his own. How hard could it be? Just two more extra people to feed, and a job in the coal mines. His father managed hunting and the coal mines, didn't he? Gale could do it too.

But he was so, so wrong. Gale has come to depend on the girl with the bow too much, and now he almost regrets it. He almost regrets ever approaching her and eventually becoming best friends with her. He didn't think she could ever hurt him the way she is now. He never thought that scrawny twelve-year-old girl could _drill holes_ into his heart the way she is now.

He hates her for it, but he can't blame her, and so he curls up on the forest floor, closing his eyes and trying to block out all unpleasant thoughts. It isn't easy, because all of his thoughts are unpleasant. Only a few minutes later, he drifts off into sleep.

When dawn comes again the soft sunlight filters through the trees, washing over Gale's sleeping figure. He blinks, once, twice, and drags his stiff body up so he can attempt to navigate back to his and Katniss's meeting place. He'll use her bow to hunt and check on his snares to see if he caught anything.

After all, there are six mouths to feed and a place waiting for him at the coal mines.

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><p><strong>(AN) **

**Not one of my favorite one-shots to write :/ **

**Hope you all liked it, though :) **

**Song quoted: Anywhere But Here by Mayday Parade**


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